


you survived. here's your starting line.

by Lyre (Lyrecho)



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Primrose's Path Shifts Slightly To The Left, Basically Warnings For Primrose And Yusufa's Canon Backstory, Brief suicidal ideation, F/F, Oneshot, Sexual Abuse, Warning For Allusions To, Yusufa Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrecho/pseuds/Lyre
Summary: Primrose, the dancer in shining silks, slayed the monster. Saved her.|Tumblr||Twitter|
Relationships: Primrose Azelhart/Yusufa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	you survived. here's your starting line.

**Author's Note:**

> Old flashfic I wrote forever ago but never posted. I had plans for a larger verse beyond this (involving Prim and Yusufa staying in Sunshade for at least a little while and forming the Dancer Mafia) and maybe one day I'll come back to that, but for now, this feels complete, and I'm happy with that.

Yusufa wakes up in agony.

The agony she is used to, and expects. The waking up? Not so much.

 _I should be dead,_ she thinks, and ignores the hollow pang in her chest at the realisation she isn't. _I died. Why aren't I dead?_

Her heart thumps a painful, unwanted beat as she blinks to awareness through the pain, and she aches body over as she pushes herself to her feet.

She knows this room, knows the walls and the silks adorning it that try to hide the screams and tears the stone has absorbed.

The brothel, the brothel, she's back in the brothel, and she sobs and wishes she was dying amidst the sands once more, just so she could do it _right_ this time.

"Yusufa?" The door opens with her flinch, and Primrose glides in, as elegant as ever but with more hesitance written into her skin than Yusufa's ever seen her with. She looks...startlingly vulnerable. "I thought I heard you moving up here."

Yusufa blinks at her. "Prim?" She says, and her voice wobbles. "Prim, I - I don't _understand."_

 _I'm dead,_ she doesn't say. She doesn't need to, because Prim was there. She knows.

"Helgenish is dead." Two swift strides, and Prim is kneeling by the bed, hands warm over her knees and clasping her hands, the gaps between Yusufa's fingers the perfect size for Prim's to slip through and lock with, entwining like they've always belonged there. "I _killed_ him, Yusufa." Tears choke her voice and spill down her beautiful face, but Prim isn't mourning. Her rage rings with triumph and Yusufa can't but laugh with disbelief.

She remembers the blade carving her from throat to hip, the burn and the pain as she was cut open and thrown to the sands, falling in a broken pile at Prim's feet.

She remembers, but somehow, she's the one that lived, while Helgenish has died. Primrose, the dancer in shining silks, slayed the monster. Saved her.

It's like a fairytale, and Yusufa has long since stopped believing in those.

"What happens now?" She asks softly.

For a moment, Prim is silent. Then, she stands, and cups Yusufa's face, cradling her cheeks as she wipes away her tears. "Whatever we want," she whispers.


End file.
